reflections on an impending farewell.

What an uncomfortable and unsettling time--the time waiting for a transition. Counting down the days, anticipating the emotions you'll feel once the time comes, not sure if you should allow yourself to feel them yet. I find that I greet transitions with consumption, choosing to stuff in the unsettled weirdness with unnecessary gestures of preparedness: buying travel irons, socks, plug adapters. At the other end, as I prepare to come home again, purging all of those frivolities I packed along with me but never really used, finding homes for them now in the closets of friends. I start sleeping--long, glorious naps, lazy mornings--accompanied by insomniac nights. I read. I buy books I won't ever get around to reading.

I began worrying yesterday about the elasticisity of my mind, about whether or not it's up for the rigors of grad school. I wonder if I should pick up sudoku. I read two issues of the New Yorker yesterday by the pool (brought to me by my sister and brother-in-law), in part because my brother-in-law was reading the only available novel, in part to clue in to the current thoughts of elite american circles that i've been away from for so long, in part to check in and test my reading stamina. I was pleased. Then I read an article about Adderall and all the young professionals and students of my generation using neuroenhancing drugs. I worried. Though the temptation of instant clarity and focus danced before my eyes on those pages, I pushed the thought from my mind. Or tried to.
In the past few years, I've come to embrace the natural thresholds of my body--to sleep when I'm tired, eat when I'm hungry, to exercise because it's healthy. I wear sunscreen now. I plan to buy running shoes as my first act on American soil. No, whatever I accomplish--or can't--next year, I want it to be natural.

And now--one last day of this extended vacation, of these five weeks with loved ones by my side through Egypt. One last day until my own goodbyes begin in earnest. It's better, I think, that I actually have so few friends around in Cairo right now--some have left before me, others are traveling, some won't be in town. I'd rather slip away, boarding an airplane alone with Egypt as a pleasant memory, rather than endure an onslought of big fleshy hugs and teary goodbyes beforehand. Though, I know it's better that way--after all, so many Egyptians here have been so good to me this year. It's only fair to say goodbye one last time.